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geekystudmuffinTitle: No Soul is Desolate
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
innerslytherin and severity_softly
Pairing: Hotch/Morgan
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Morgan decides to take a detour on the drive back to Quantico. (Set immediately post-Mayhem)
Word count: ~19,000
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayhem! (Kinks: a little dirty talk *g*)
Notes: RP format. Feel free to point out any glaring mistakes. :)
Part 1
Morgan woke early, the only sounds in the room Hotch's deep, even breathing and the air conditioning unit kicking off. He hadn't set an alarm, but it seemed like the days he was allowed to sleep in, he never could. He rolled onto his side, staring at the Hotch-shaped lump under the covers and wondering if he'd done the right thing. It had seemed so clear yesterday morning, when he'd approached Dave about the idea. And it was true that he and Hotch had achieved a sort of peace between them last night. But now the whole day stretched ahead of them, and Morgan had no idea what to expect.
He'd woken twice in the night to the sound of Hotch's nightmares, but he wasn't sure whether it would be worse to ignore them or to try to help. Both times he had ended up lying awake, listening to Hotch wake himself up, then try to settle back down to sleep. The second time, Hotch had limped to the bathroom and Morgan had tried to keep his breathing steady so Hotch wouldn't realize he was awake. When Hotch had fallen back to sleep, Morgan had lain awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling like a coward.
Checking the time, Morgan saw it was only just past six. They would be serving breakfast downstairs for another three hours, so he didn't feel like he had to wake Hotch for that. He got up as quietly as possible and grabbed his swim trunks from his ready bag. He supposed he was the only one on the team who carried them, but he never knew if they'd be in a place where he could get in a morning run or weight set, so he tried to cover all his bases. His shoulder was still sore enough from jumping out of the ambulance that he didn't really want to try weights yet. Today it would be laps in the pool to test his body and focus his mind.
Hotch woke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath, and for a moment he couldn't figure out why. He hadn't just been dreaming that he could remember. He felt better rested than he had when he'd woken throughout the night. But something had woken him, and he rolled over to find that Morgan wasn't in the bed next to him. And the bathroom door was open with no light on. Morgan must have left. Hotch half-wished that he'd started coffee before leaving, and then looked at the clock and groaned. Not time for coffee yet.
He rolled back onto his back and tried to go back to sleep, but after a while he just found himself staring blankly at the ceiling, his stomach rolling a little as the dreams that had woken him last night replayed in his mind over and over. Eventually, he got up and made coffee, even if it was only six-thirty, and then settled back in bed and flipped on the news, the sound almost too soft for him to hear. Which didn't matter because he couldn't focus on it anyway.
Finally, he leaned over and picked up his phone from the nightstand. If he was going to be awake this early, and Morgan wasn't here, he was going to wake up the other person responsible for this spontaneous 'vacation'.
When Dave answered, Hotch didn't wait for a greeting. "Surely you've realized I've been kidnapped, and yet I haven't failed to notice that you haven't notified the authorities," he mumbled, his voice still gravely from sleep.
There was a silence at the other end of the line, then Dave chuckled. "I thought you are the authorities," he said, sounding sleepy. "I'm surprised Derek is allowing you use of the telephone. He must be in the shower."
"He's out," Hotch said. "And he's not my keeper. And I hope I woke you out of a really wonderful dream."
"Yes, it involved a beach and margaritas," Dave replied. "What's he doing out? The idea of this was to keep you two in." There was a rustling over the line, and then a badly muffled yawn.
Hotch frowned. "What?" he asked, but then shook his head and dismissed it. "I'm sure he went out for a run or something. Does it every morning."
"I didn't know that," Dave said, sounding interested and slightly more awake. "Huh. I'm sure you're mad at me, but we both know you'd have already been awake and at the office by now if he'd let you come home."
"That's beside the point," Hotch said, then sipped his coffee. "And you know it. I don't know when I lost my authority, but you need to tell him to take me home because he won't listen to me." He wasn't sure if he was joking or not. He'd meant it as a joke, but saying that out loud put him slightly on edge.
"Mm." Dave coughed. "Actually, since you're on medical leave, I'm the one running the unit right now. Which means you lost your authority to me. And I actually like Derek's idea. Not to mention I think he'd be good for you."
Hotch's frown deepened and he blinked at nothing for a moment, unsure why Dave's words gave him pause. "Getting back to Quantico would be good for me."
Dave snorted. "Not as good as that. For God's sake, Aaron, go back to sleep. Let the man work his plan."
"What plan? We've said what needed to be said." Hotch sighed. "I can't sleep, anyway. I'd rather keep you awake."
"You didn't even know there was anything that needed to be said, did you?" Dave asked sounding skeptical.
"I'm not blind to the fact that there was a rift between Morgan and me this last case," Hotch said.
"You're blind about some other things," Dave muttered. "Aaron, I'm going to hang up in ten seconds. Go back to sleep. If you call me again, I'll tell Strauss you want to transfer to white collar crime."
"Dave," Hotch started, and then suddenly felt a little lost, not knowing what to say, and just trailed off without saying anything.
Dave's voice gentled. "Aaron, just trust me, okay? This will be good for you, and hopefully good for him, too." His words trailed off into something suspiciously like a snicker, but he cleared his throat and added, "Really. Don't call me again. I'll see you in a few days."
There was a click, and the line went dead.
Hotch sat there with the phone to his ear for a moment, and then drew a deep breath and flicked his phone shut. "Thanks," he muttered at it, and dropped it back on the nightstand before slumping back down in bed and glowering at the TV set. He'd turned it down out of habit while he was on the phone, and now he couldn't hear anything besides muffled, unintelligible sounds, but that hardly seemed to matter.
Morgan's shoulder was aching by the time he pulled himself out of the pool at the deep end, but his heart rate was up, he was breathing hard, and he knew the endorphin rush was going to kick in soon. He toweled off enough to quit dripping all over, then padded along the air conditioned hall back to the stairs.
When he let himself back into the room, the TV was on, but Hotch appeared to have fallen asleep again. Morgan jumped in the shower for a quick rinse, then came back out into the room dressed in boxers and a pair of jeans. He probably ought to wake Hotch, to make sure they had time to get down to breakfast before all the good stuff was gone.
Instead Morgan stood between their beds, watching Hotch sleep for a few minutes. He'd taken a lot of heat over the years for being such a player, but the truth was, as much as he enjoyed spending time with women and flirting with them, making them feel good about themselves, he'd never even looked at anyone seriously for seven years, since he joined the BAU. He'd been twenty-nine and fresh out of deep cover, and to him Aaron Hotchner had been something like a god. He'd fallen hard, and he'd never recovered.
And until Dave Rossi guessed his secret, sometime in the past six months, only Garcia had ever known.
Morgan sighed and rested one knee on the bed, leaning over to grip Hotch's shoulder gently but firmly. "Hey. Hotch. Wake up."
Hotch woke with a start. Again. And he was starting to get awfully sick of waking up like that. Thankfully this time it wasn't obvious (he hoped), his eyes darting to Morgan's for a moment, and then he expelled a breath in one big gust and relaxed again. "Mm'fine," he mumbled automatically, still mostly asleep, and closed his eyes again, reaching his hand up to try to rub them open for good. "Run?"
"Swim," Morgan said. "I wasn't sure if there was a good place for it here. Shoulder's a little sore, but other than that, it was pretty good." He decided not to say anything yet about Aaron's bad waking. After all, it wasn't going to change any time soon, but maybe he could help with that a little, eventually. He massaged Hotch's shoulder lightly before letting go, but pulled away. "I thought I oughta wake you in time for breakfast."
"I've had coffee," Hotch mumbled, relaxing slightly under Morgan touch. "Dave refuses to come rescue me."
"Good. I told you he'd signed off on this." Morgan gave him a crooked smile. "Come on, I think they have waffles down there. You need more than coffee for breakfast."
"I don't want to move," Hotch said. Morgan had been right when he said the ache would be worse today. It wasn't too much, but Hotch knew it would only get progressively worse if he didn't try to work it out. He pushed up to a seated position and stretched a bit.
"How are you feeling?" Morgan asked, watching him stretch. "You gotta be hurting right now."
"I am. I'll manage, though." Hotch looked up at Morgan, and realized suddenly that Morgan wasn't wearing a shirt... and Hotch knew Morgan was well built, but his eyes still wandered a moment before he looked away.
"Ibuprofen and a backrub," Morgan recommended, feeling a flash of heat that Hotch had looked.
"I'm not sure if a backrub would help or hurt." It wasn't muscle soreness so much as bruising, but a backrub might keep him from getting stiffer. "Gentle one, maybe," Hotch said, mostly to himself, and stood to go to the bathroom.
"Ibuprofen's on the counter in there, backrub's right here," Morgan said, hoping his voice was casual enough. It was strange, making a move on someone who wasn't expecting it and might not be at all interested. But Dave's subtle encouragement had implied Hotch wasn't necessarily unreceptive to advances from a man, so Morgan was hoping for the best.
Hotch breathed a laugh, and took the bottle of pills, downing a few with the water from the tap. "You don't have to do penance."
"I told you this was to make us both feel better, right?" Morgan asked, his lips quirking. "The argument last night was about making me feel better. This is about making you feel better." He tilted his head in a 'come here' gesture. "Shirt off, so I don't hit shrapnel wounds." His mouth went dry as soon as he said it; Hotch was so going to see right through this.
Hotch looked out the bathroom door at Morgan, just watching him for a moment. "Do you feel better?" he asked.
Morgan shifted and gave the question some consideration. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I do." Just saying some of that stuff to Hotch had made him feel better, let alone Hotch's reassurances that his history with Dave and Kate Joyner didn't change things between them.
Hotch nodded slowly. "What about breakfast?"
"We'll have time," Morgan said dismissively. "Or, hey, we're both bachelors now. We can eat cold spaghetti for breakfast if we damn well please."
Hotch laughed softly and shook his head, moving back towards Morgan. "You know," he said, tugging his shirt off, "If you wanted to get me naked..." He trailed off, calling back to the way he'd teased Morgan the night before about the wine and cake... and then suddenly his body went cold, everything Dave had said on the phone clicking into place all at once. "Where do you want me?" he asked anyway, almost too softly, because this couldn't possibly... He shook himself mentally and looked at Morgan, wondering if he were concussed and no one knew it.
Morgan licked his lips, hoping Hotch didn't know what sort of answer Morgan really wanted to give. "Just, you know, lie down. Or, I mean, you could sit up if you want, but I'm not as good at that." He managed a lopsided, slightly suggestive grin, hoping Hotch would laugh.
Hotch's eyebrows lifted, and he looked at Morgan for a moment, and then realized that probably wasn't the correct reaction. Get a grip. There's no way this is about sex. He nodded. "Okay," he murmured, and climbed onto the bed, stretching out onto his stomach.
Morgan cleared his throat and climbed onto the bed next to him, meaning to just kneel next to him. But it seemed awkward, so he knelt straddling Hotch's hips, keeping his weight off him. "Damn, you are bruised up good," he said, tracing a finger softly around the edges of the largest one. "We're lucky to still have you with us," he added in a whisper.
Hotch sucked in a breath; that touch was not what he expected, and it sent a shiver down his spine. God. "I'm hard to kill," he said, for lack of anything more coherent that came to mind.
"God," Morgan breathed, his fingers wandering to another bruise. His throat felt tight, like he couldn't breathe. He'd known how close Hotch came to the explosion, and the doctor had told him about the collapse in the hospital. Still, it was one thing knowing and another seeing the damage for himself. "Hotch..." His fingers went from bruise to cut to bruise, and his breathing went ragged with sudden yearning for something he didn't want to name. "God."
Hotch's eyes went wide, but he knew Morgan couldn't see it, and for a moment he just tried to breathe. He felt a little too exposed now; it was hard to know that seeing him like this could affect someone like it was obviously affecting Morgan. And God, this wasn't about sex at all, was it? This was about... more than that. Hotch was suddenly struggling to understand something he'd never expected to have to in a million years.
"Morgan," he whispered. "You-- you don't have to--"
Morgan cleared his throat again and swallowed, trying to push down the sudden upwelling of emotions. "Sorry, I was supposed to be massaging, wasn't I?" he said, trying for a light tone of voice. He rested his palms against Hotch's back, leaning lightly.
"Mnn," Hotch hummed automatically, the light pressure feeling good and bad at the same time, though he honestly couldn't relax right now anyway. He took a deep breath. "I didn't--" understand what Dave meant when he said I was blind, when he said we had more to talk about. He went silent for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Let me over," he murmured, and then started to roll under Morgan, waiting for him to move enough for Hotch to roll onto his back.
"What?" Morgan stared down at him, trying to figure out what Hotch meant. When he did, a shiver of cold went down his spine. He shifted off of Hotch, kneeling next to him again. "Change your mind?" he said, trying to brush it off.
When Hotch was able to, he sat up, just to match Morgan's posture, and fixed Morgan with a look. He knew he was frowning, and he couldn't quite help it, but he held Morgan's gaze, inviting honesty. "Talk to me."
Morgan cleared his throat again and forced himself to look at Hotch. "What are we talking about?" he asked, and his voice came out as a whisper, which he hadn't expected.
Hotch's frown deepened, but he chose not to say anything. He just held Morgan's gaze.
Morgan sighed. "Hotch, I..." He looked down, brows drawn together. He didn't know what to say. How did you even begin to say something like this?
Hotch didn't look away. "How long have I been completely oblivious to this?"
Morgan didn't look up. He licked his lips. "Since I transferred to the BAU," he whispered.
Hotch nearly choked. "What?!" he asked, his throat suddenly dry.
Morgan shrugged. "Hey, it's cool, I mean, you were married and all... I just, you know. Yeah."
"I'm not upset," Hotch said, which was possibly not the best thing to say, but Morgan didn't usually seem as such a loss.
That stopped the flow of uncomfortable words from Morgan's mouth, and he looked up at Hotch again, his gaze pausing at firm pectorals and more bruises before continuing on to Hotch's face. "I know I sort of idolize you," he muttered, "but it--it's more than that." God, this wasn't going at all the way he'd imagined it.
Hotch let out a breath that was sort of, but not really, a laugh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Morgan-- Derek. You don't idolize me."
Morgan's eyes widened a little and he kept staring at Hotch, waiting for him to expand on that statement.
"You can't," Hotch said after a moment, sounding a little defeated. "God, how did I not know this?" He was starting to get tired of questioning his own abilities in the last few days.
Morgan shook his head, not sure why Hotch was sounding unhappy. "I protected this one hard...Aaron," he said. "Garcia's the only one who ever knew, until Dave called me on it yesterday." He sighed and looked away again. "I didn't really mean for you to ever know. It makes things...complicated." He shrugged.
Aaron's eyebrows lifted and lowered, and he nodded to himself. "Dave figured it out and I never saw it." He paused. "Why now?" he asked, but then his hand went instinctively to cover the largest of the bruises over his ribs. "Never mind."
Morgan reached out automatically and slid his fingers over Hotch's. He stared at their hands for a moment, then looked up. "Because of a lot of things. I--you were almost killed, and I'd never forgive myself if you didn't know...and because of what you said last night...and because I think we both need it." He licked his lips and glanced away. "And because Dave seemed to think this was the time."
Hotch turned his hand under Morgan's, his fingers brushing Morgan's palm. Truthfully he wasn't quite done being upset with Morgan; he wasn't quite ready to take back anything he'd said when Morgan had offered to drive him. Hotch drew a long breath. "I don't even know where to begin fix the fact that I'm still not convinced you trust us--me," he admitted.
Morgan's gaze jerked back to Hotch's when he touched Morgan's hand. "I'm not sure, but whatever it takes, I'm willing to try," he said quietly. He held Hotch's gaze for a long minute, then slowly, in case Hotch wanted to stop him, he leaned in and pressed their lips together.
Hotch sucked in a breath and only returned the kiss with an innocent one of his own. He didn't pull back though; he just breathed his next words against Morgan's lips. "I shouldn't do this."
"Because you don't want to?" Morgan asked quietly.
"Because I'm still upset with you." Hotch brushed his nose against Morgan's. "Because I'm the SAC."
"You don't have to stop being upset with me to do this," Morgan whispered. "But if those are your only reasons, then you sure as hell should do this." He reached up to slide his fingers into Hotch's hair, and kissed him again, more slowly.
Hotch let out a small noise as Morgan kissed him, and this time he returned it fully, a thrill of desire running through him. "Why?"
"Because we both need this," Morgan said quietly. "And...and I do trust you, Aaron. And this is--" His chest squeezed painfully and he stopped talking, because he couldn't just say, I've never trusted another man with my body. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, and leaned in to kiss Hotch again.
Hotch kissed Morgan back, but he frowned anyway, then pulled back to hold Morgan's gaze. "You don't have to do this to prove trust. I'm not asking for this."
Morgan cleared his throat. "I know that. But you've already got it. I'm just trying to show you." When it came down to it, he couldn't quite ignore the fact that his pulse was jumping for more reasons than just arousal. But he also wanted this more than he was nervous. And Hotch wasn't pushing him away. Hotch wanted this too. Morgan kissed him again, just tiny brushes of lips and tongue.
"God, I--" Hotch whispered, but just stopped talking and slid his hand over Morgan's thigh. He shouldn't do this, but he didn't want to stop. "This is hardly fair. I'm mostly undressed already."
Morgan laughed and tried to ignore how shaky it felt. "I've just got my jeans on, man." He shifted back and dropped his hands to the front of his jeans, keeping his eyes on Hotch's.
Hotch could hear the nervousness in Morgan's voice, and he couldn't help but be a little concerned. He knew about Morgan's past, after all. "Morgan... I-- we shouldn't."
"Hotch, Aaron, I want this." Morgan looked at him and lifted one hand to trace a careful line across Hotch's cheek, avoiding cuts. "I want you. For years. I've never really done something like this before, but you can be damn sure I'm not having any doubts."
Hotch held Morgan's gaze for a long moment, making sure Morgan wasn't just saying that, making sure this was really okay. And then he leaned in and cupped Morgan's jaw, kissing him again.
Morgan felt the tension drain out of him when Hotch moved forward. He melted into the kiss, welcoming Hotch with everything in him. God, he didn't even care about getting naked right now, he just didn't want this to stop. He tried to think about Hotch being injured, tried to keep from aggravating any of his pains, but his free hand slid impatiently along Hotch's arms and over his torso, the other running through his hair, as they kissed.
"Mmm," Hotch hummed, and slid closer to Morgan on the bed, his arm slipping around Morgan's waist, and he ignored a tiny burn when Morgan's fingers brushed one of the worst of the cuts. He'd almost died, but this was making him remember he was alive more than he had in the past few days. "What did Dave tell you?"
Morgan thought about the way it had simultaneously hurt and given him hope, the look on Dave's face when he'd said he 'had a feeling Aaron wouldn't mind at all'. There was history between Dave and Hotch, whatever they were leaving unspoken now. But Morgan hoped--thought--that it was just history now. "He just...hinted you might not be quite as straight as I thought," he murmured, and skated his lips along Hotch's jaw.
Hotch closed his eyes, feeling a little relieved, even if he did have a feeling that Morgan probably knew how Dave would know that. Hotch and Dave had never been together--they had both been married--but there had been an undeniable attraction between them back then, which they'd acknowledged, but never acted on. "He's on my Shit List the rest of the year," Hotch said, but then pulled away a little so that he could catch Morgan's lips in a kiss that was hungrier, hooking his hand around Morgan's neck. "Not that I'm complaining about the results," he whispered when he pulled away, then bit lightly at Morgan's lower lip.
Morgan laughed in surprise at Hotch's words, but then moaned faintly as a surge of arousal went through him. God, this was incredible. He stroked his hand down Hotch's chest, skating his fingertips across a nipple.
Hotch sucked in a breath, and then let his hand slip to Morgan's jeans. He worked open the button one-handed after a small amount of fumbling, while his other hand stroked over the back of Morgan's head.
"Mmm." Morgan moved enough to help Hotch with his jeans, appreciating that he was taking the initiative now. It felt incredibly good to be wanted.
Once Morgan's zipper was down, Hotch pushed at the top of his jeans, and Morgan helped to get them off. His fingers stroked up Morgan's thigh then, and skipped over Morgan's groin to slide over his stomach. God, Morgan was beautiful and firm, and Hotch was still trying to figure out how he hadn't ever known Morgan wanted him. But that didn't matter right now. "Morgan," he breathed. "Derek."
Morgan smiled, watching him. He liked the sound of his name on Hotch's lips. He leaned in and kissed Hotch again, pressing lightly on his shoulder to try to get him to lie down. He was dying to feel Hotch's skin against his.
Hotch let Morgan guide him down, hooking a hand under Morgan's arm to pull Morgan with him. He didn't break the kiss, he just deepened it once they were lying down.
Morgan pressed his chest lightly to Hotch's as they kissed, wanting the contact but wanting Hotch to guide things so he didn't get hurt. This almost didn't feel real, except there was no doubting the hunger in Hotch's kiss. Morgan moaned softly, his free hand stroking lightly along Hotch's arm.
Hotch let out a small moan, his body reacting to Morgan's touch readily. He slid his hand down to Morgan's hip, first above his boxers, and then underneath, though he just stroked his fingers along Morgan's hip and down the side of his thigh.
"God," Morgan whispered, his breath catching in his throat. "Aaron." He let his hand roam over Hotch's skin and leaned in for another kiss. "Touch me."
Hotch chuckled softly into another kiss. "I am touching you," he murmured. When he slid his hand back up, his curled his pinky and ring finger down to brush over Morgan's hip bone, across his abdomen, closer to the erection Hotch could feel pressing lightly against him. He was mildly surprised that Morgan wasn't taking more initiative, and he knew part of it was that Morgan hadn't done this before, but he would have expected Morgan to play at complete confidence anyway. "You're completely sure? I don't want to hurt you."
Morgan leaned in until his lips were brushing Hotch's. "If you say that when I tell you to touch me, how are you gonna react when I ask you to fuck me?" he murmured.
Hotch drew a sharp breath as a thrill of lust went through him at Morgan's words. He'd mostly been worried about Morgan's past history, but it was clear now that wasn't even an issue to consider. He leaned in again and kissed Morgan hard, the hunger from Morgan's words apparent, and then rolled them both so that he was on top of Morgan, pressing down against him.
God. Morgan moaned and wrapped his arms around Hotch, holding him close and meeting Hotch's passion with his own. He tried to remember which of Hotch's legs was hurt, but gave up quickly and just shifted his own legs apart to let Hotch settle down against him.
"Mmph," Hotch hummed as they pressed together. It had been well over two decades since he'd done this, but it was just as wonderful as Hotch remembered. It was better this time, actually, because it was Morgan, and it was slowly hitting Hotch how much Morgan was giving him right now. He ducked his head and licked along Morgan's throat, sucking at the bump of Adam's apple.
Morgan let out a quiet noise, though he didn't actually manage any words. He arched his head back, one hand stroking up Hotch's back to slide into his hair. "Yeah," he breathed finally, shifting his hips under Hotch's and gasping at the pleasure that sent through him.
Hotch gasped softly at the movement of Morgan under him, then pressed down harder, groaning at the way it drove his desire farther, and at the way it made his muscles ache just a bit. "Derek," he said, then bit softly against Morgan's shoulder, liking the way Morgan responded to him.
Hissing in surprise, Morgan curled a leg around Hotch's, hoping he'd picked the uninjured side. "Yes, God," he managed, his eyes falling half closed. "Aaron."
Hotch slid down a bit, moving so Morgan's leg was off the part of his leg that was the most sore and hoping Morgan hadn't noticed the reaction. He licked at Morgan's nipple, flicking his tongue at the nub until it hardened and then scraping his teeth lightly against it. "You don't want to fuck me?" he asked, his voice soft, and then moved lower, kissing over Morgan's chest.
Morgan gasped and let out a shuddery breath. "I will if you want that," he said. "But I'd rather--I want you to take me." He liked the idea of Hotch being 'in charge', so to speak. He stroked his hand down to rest at Hotch's hip. "Did I...hurt you?' he added.
"I'm fine," Hotch murmured, not answering directly. The desire that was running through him at Morgan's words was slowly fogging his mind. "It's been a long time," he said, sliding low enough that he was breathing his words over the head of Morgan's cock.
Morgan shivered. "I figured--Dave--" he muttered, and then lost track of what he was saying. "Oh, God, Aaron."
"We were married," Aaron whispered. "I haven't done this since high school." He ducked his head and covered the head of Morgan's cock with his mouth, sucking lightly and watching Morgan's face.
Morgan let out a loud groan, feeling selfishly better about Dave. He tightened his fingers in Aaron's hair, panting. "Oh, that's--" He had to fight to keep his eyes open, watching Aaron hungrily.
Morgan was gorgeous, his eyes half-lidded and looking at Hotch like that. Hotch tried to hold his gaze, but after a moment, he closed his eyes to focus on what he was doing, then drew a deep breath and relaxed his throat, taking Morgan in as deeply as he could manage.
"Nnnh," Morgan managed, sliding his free hand across Hotch's shoulders. "Feels--so good, God! This...this is what you want?" He was breathing raggedly, pleasure surging through him and making him wonder how long he was going to last, if Hotch kept this up.
Hotch pulled back, humming softly around Morgan. This felt completely new and still familiar at the same time, and it was good to see Morgan this way. He pulled off, though, and looked at Morgan. "This is a two way thing, not just about what I want," he said, brushing his nose and lips along Morgan's prick, his eyes falling closed as he licked along the shaft again. "And I am enjoying this."
Morgan whimpered, closing his eyes. "Aaron," he breathed, running his fingers through the short, soft hair. "So good. I won't--last long--at this rate."
"You're young. You can come a second time," Hotch murmured, smiling softly to himself and feeling more than a little good about how quickly he'd been able to do this to Morgan. He slipped his mouth back over Morgan and sucked harder, his tongue flicking over the head each time he pulled back.
Morgan just made a strangled noise and fought to keep his hips from jerking automatically at the sensation that was beginning to overwhelm him. It felt fantastic, and what made it better was that Hotch was doing this. Hotch was enjoying this. It seemed impossibly good. Morgan's chest hitched as he tried to breathe.
Hotch hummed around Morgan and took him in deeply, then drew his hand down over Morgan's thigh to brush his finger over Morgan's entrance, just circling it lightly as he sucked, trying to bring Morgan to the edge. He could tell Morgan was trying to keep still, and gave his hips a gentle nudge too.
Morgan cried out, the touch of Hotch's fingers sending another flash of pleasure through him. "I--I'm close--" he gasped, letting his hips jerk when Hotch nudged them. "God, Aaron, I can't--I--" He broke off into a choked moan as he came, his back arching until the strength left his muscles and he slumped back against the bed.
Hotch groaned as Morgan came, opening his eyes to watch as he swallowed all of Morgan's release. When Morgan collapsed, Hotch licked him clean and then pressed his cheek to Morgan's thigh, watching the rise and fall of Morgan's chest.
"God," Morgan whispered, finally moving one hand to stroke his fingers through Hotch's hair. "God." He stared down at Hotch, and was embarrassed at how tight his throat felt. He slid his hand down to curl his fingers around Hotch's arm and nudge him lightly, wanting to be closer.
Hotch slid up Morgan's body and settled next to him, stifling a groan at the way his body ached (he'd temporarily forgotten it) and at the way his cock ached too, wanting attention. He brushed his fingers lightly against Morgan's jaw.
Morgan kissed him, tasting himself. "Aaron," he whispered, shifting so their bodies were pressed together. "How do you want me?"
Aaron gave Morgan a lopsided smile. "You're ready already?"
"I want you to talk to me," Morgan said, smiling back. "I want you to tell me what you want to do. I'll be ready soon." He kissed Aaron again.
Hotch moaned softly into the kiss. Telling Morgan what he wanted might just drive him crazy. His cock was already insisting on attention and he was trying not to think too much about it. "I hope you brought lube."
"Mmhmm," Morgan agreed. "Didn't really think I'd get to use it, though." He stroked a hand down to tease at Aaron's hip. "Tell me what you want to do with me."
Hotch reached between them and parted Morgan's legs, bringing Morgan's top leg up to rest gently over his own hip. He stroked his fingertips down over Morgan's perineum, then just over one side of his ass. "If I tell you what I want to do, I might come before we start," he murmured, brushing his nose along Morgan's cheek.
Morgan's breathing hitched. "Oh come on, you have more control than that, don't you?" he said after a moment, his voice warm with amusement and affection. "Tell me, Aaron." He liked the way Aaron was touching him. He wanted that calm, authoritative voice telling him what to do.
Hotch laughed. "I haven't exactly been having a lot of sex lately," he said, and pressed himself against Morgan's thigh. He kissed Morgan softly. "I'm not all that good at this," he whispered, then drew a fingertip down the valley of Morgan's ass. "I want to make you come again while I'm inside of you," he murmured.
Morgan let out a quiet noise. "Yes." He pressed back lightly against Aaron's finger. "God."
Hotch pressed the pad of his finger against Morgan's entrance, not wanting to press inside without lubrication, but applying pressure and slight friction against Morgan. "I want you on top of me," he whispered. He'd been a little concerned about his leg holding up when he'd been on top of Morgan before, but he wasn't about to say that, and as soon as the words were out, he breathed a little noise of want at the thought, picturing it in his mind. "Sitting up so I can see the way my cock makes you feel, watch the way you look each time I drive into you."
Morgan moaned and leaned in to kiss Aaron hard. "Yes, I want that," he agreed breathlessly. "Want you inside me." He needed to get his bag, but he had no desire to move. He couldn't wait much longer, though; he could feel Aaron's erection, and his own cock was starting to give twitches of interest at the way Aaron was talking. He kissed Aaron again. "Need to get the lube," he muttered against his mouth.
"I want you right back like this when you come back so I can get you ready," Hotch said softly, though his tone left no room for argument. God, his cock was aching more the more he talked like this.
Morgan smiled. "Yes, sir," he whispered, and kissed him once more before pulling away and rolling off the bed to get the lube. He glanced at the condoms in his bag and left them. When he came back, he pressed against Aaron again, trying to arrange himself just as he had been. "Is this right?" he asked, looping an arm around Aaron's neck and kissing him slowly.
"Close enough," Hotch said, smiling softly. He took the lube and slicked his fingers, and then his hand was between them again, his finger pressing lightly at Morgan's entrance. "Tell me how it feels," he said, mostly because he wanted to make sure he wasn't hurting Morgan, but he also wanted to hear how much Morgan was enjoying this.
"It feels good," Morgan murmured, his breathing speeding up again. "Teasing," he added, smiling. "Makes me want more." He stroked his fingers over Aaron's skin, unable to get enough of touching him.
Hotch kissed Morgan again, drawing it out as he pressed a fingertip inside gently. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured, sliding his finger in slowly. "You're going to look so beautiful sitting on my prick."
"Oh, God," Morgan moaned as a thrill went through him. Aaron was hot talking like that, and his finger was almost too gentle. Morgan pressed back. "More," he demanded. "Nnh, want you so much."
"More?" Hotch whispered, pleased and getting increasingly more desperate. He wanted the tight heat around his cock, not his finger. He rocked his hips against Morgan's thigh and pressed a second finger inside, crooking his fingers to find Morgan's prostate. "I want you to stroke yourself while I fuck you, Derek. I want to feel you come against me and clench around me." Aaron's voice was calm, soft, but he had to bite his lip after that and focus on trying to breath evenly because if he kept talking he wouldn't be able to control his body anymore.
"Fuck," Morgan breathed, and then gasped as pleasure shot through him. God, he couldn't take this much longer, and he didn't think Aaron could, either. "Want you inside me," he managed. The calm tone of Aaron's voice was killing him. "Please!"
Hotch scissored his fingers, once last attempt to get Morgan ready, but his heart was beating hard against his ribs. "Now?" he managed, his tone going a little husky.
"Yes, yes," Morgan panted, a shiver going through him at Aaron's tone. "Aaron, I need you. Now."
Hotch nodded and rolled onto his back, tugging Morgan on top of him. He slid his hands up Morgan's body, not pushing him to sit up just yet so he could relax for a moment as he got used to the feeling of Hotch inside him. He hooked his hand around Morgan's neck to pull him in for a deep, hopefully soothing kiss, and then positioned himself and pressed Morgan's hips back until he was sliding gently over Hotch's cock. Hotch moaned loudly against Morgan's lips and tried to steady himself while Morgan got used to it.
It was uncomfortable at first, as Morgan had known it would be, but he'd been too impatient to wait any longer. And there was something arousing about that edge of pain, too, something that said it was worth the discomfort because something better was ahead. Morgan made a hungry noise and nipped at Aaron's mouth, just to show that begging for Aaron's cock didn't mean he was passive about this.
Hotch moaned softly, and returned the nips with hungrier kisses. "God, Derek," he whispered. His hand was trembling slightly against Morgan's hip as he waited for Morgan to move, and he curled his fingers against Morgan's skin to steady it. "Fuck."
"Yes!" Morgan slid his hand down to cover Aaron's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Feels so good." He kissed Aaron one more time, then shifted and sat back, keeping his gaze locked on Aaron's. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous," he groaned, pleasure washing through him at the shift in angle. He paused, already panting, and then finally began, slowly, to move.
Hotch's breath went ragged, feeling the pressure of Morgan's weight on him, the way he was buried inside of Morgan. His fingers went tight on Morgan's and he slid his other hand up Morgan's thigh. He moaned when Morgan started moving, wanting so badly to thrust, but not letting himself yet. "Derek," he panted, letting his eyes flutter shut.
Morgan made a quiet noise as he rocked his hips, loving the expression on Hotch's face. He wanted Hotch's eyes on him, though, so he moved his free hand to touch Hotch's cheek. "Watch me," he murmured. "See how much I want you."
Hotch was trying to steady his breath, and wasn't really making any progress, but he opened his eyes and looked up at Morgan. His breath hitched when Morgan shifted, and his fingers went tighter around Morgan's. "You're so unbelievably sexy like this," he panted softly.
"So are you," Morgan said, smiling broadly. He felt indescribably good as he began really moving, lifting himself up and then sliding back down along the length of Hotch's cock. His smile sort of fell apart as his jaw went slack with pleasure, though his gaze was still hot, locked on Aaron's. The thought flitted through him that he hoped he wasn't hurting Hotch, but he couldn't make the words form.
Hotch breathed what might have been a laugh if he wasn't flooded with need, and shook his head once at Morgan's assessment. He reached up and stroked what he could reach of Morgan's chest, his body humming with pleasure as Morgan moved. His fingers trailed back down over a rippled stomach. "Derek," he whispered, and realized belatedly that Morgan actually had every bit of control in this position. He found himself not caring either.
Morgan let out a quiet noise that was halfway between a laugh and a moan. "Aaron, Aaron, fuck me," he said, squeezing Aaron's fingers lightly. Aaron had proven that he wanted Morgan--there was no question of that--but Morgan wanted to see it now, too.
"God, yes," Hotch moaned. He'd been waiting for Morgan to give him indication that he was ready, and a flash of heat went through him at Morgan's words. He reached down to grip Morgan's hip and thrust up against Morgan, moaning softly as he watched Morgan's face.
The first thrust drove all the breath out of Morgan's body. He stared at Aaron, gasping at the rush of sensation that had shot through him. The second thrust got him to pay attention to what he was doing again, and he started trying to time his movements with Aaron's, still watching him hungrily. He didn't think he'd ever felt this connected to someone in his life. It was almost frightening, but it was such a rush, he wasn't sure he'd ever recover.
"God, Morg-- Derek," Hotch managed, thrusting faster once Morgan was moving with him. He clamped his eyes shut for a moment, partially because he was hurting a bit, but mostly because it just felt so amazing it was hard to handle. He couldn't breathe. "Touch yourself," he ordered, opening his eyes to gaze up at Morgan again. He didn't know how long he could last.
"Aaron, you okay?" Morgan managed, because he wasn't sure, but he thought that had been a hint of pain in Aaron's expression. He curled his fingers obediently around his cock, though, his eyelids lowering and a groan of relief escaping his lips.
"Better. Than. Okay," Aaron panted, thrusting with each word, a little harder than he had before, partially to make a point--that he didn't care if it hurt because it felt too good to stop, so Morgan should just not ask. His eyelids drooped and his gaze fell to Morgan's hand. "Mmph, yes. I'm-- getting close," he managed.
Morgan just made a noise of acknowledgment and whimpered in excitement as Hotch thrust harder. God, this was incredible. He flicked his thumb across the head of his cock and clenched his muscles around Aaron experimentally.
"Derek," Hotch panted, his body feeling like it was coming apart underneath of Morgan's. He wanted to feel Morgan come, though, so when Morgan clenched around him, he gasped and he slowed a little. "Mmm," he whimpered.
"Good?" Morgan asked, a faint smile flitting across his face. It was soon lost to pleasure, though, as Aaron thrust harder into him. He automatically tightened his fingers, stroking faster, and let out another unintelligible noise. He was close, very close. His thighs were beginning to shake with a mixture of effort and involuntary spasms of pleasure. God, this was good.
"Yes!" Hotch answered, then licked his lips, fighting to control his body's response. There were thrills of pure lust and need coursing through him as he moved, at it was starting to build to a crescendo. He finally gripped Morgan's hip and stopped him, stilling inside of Morgan, panting hard. "Come," he panted. "I want to feel you come," he said, and laced the fingers of his free hand with Morgan's to stroke with him.
Morgan groaned and stroked faster, watching Aaron's face. God, it was good to see that need on Aaron's face and know it was for him. He felt the pleasure building inside him, and then his body tightened and he gasped as he came, spilling over their joined hands.
Hotch was so close that the feel of Morgan's come over his hand and stomach and the feeling of Morgan's orgasm running through him as he clenched around Hotch's cock was enough. Hotch didn't even have to thrust again, he just gasped as his own climax came, and then moaned, rocking just a bit against Morgan as he milked his release as long as he could. He was fighting to breathe once it was over, but he looked up and met Morgan's gaze, and a slow, sated smile formed on his lips before he could stop it. "God," he panted, and tugged Morgan down for a kiss.
Pleased, Morgan kissed Aaron hungrily, slumping against him before remembering his injuries. Then he jerked his weight back off Aaron, though he maintained the kiss. It felt strange to have Aaron growing soft still inside him, but he liked the intimacy of it. He didn't want this to be over. And he really didn't want to have to talk about what had just happened.
Hotch groaned when Morgan slumped against him, but when Morgan pulled away, Hotch pulled him back. Gently. His body was swimming with enough endorphins running through him he didn't notice the aches, as long as the press of their bodies was gentle. "Mmm," he hummed, not able to think.
"M'not hurting you?" Morgan murmured, brushing his nose against Aaron's jaw. He didn't want to move, but he'd rather move than cause Aaron any pain.
"Not at the moment," Hotch murmured. "Feel too fuzzy."
"Mmm." Morgan kissed Aaron's jaw, smiling. "That was fantastic." It was more than fantastic. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good.
Aaron closed his eyes and tried to think through the haze, but all he could manage to think was that Morgan had just given up so much to him. It felt almost overwhelming now. "Derek?" Hotch breathed, sliding his hand up the back of Morgan's head.
"Yeah," Morgan whispered.
Hotch drew in a long breath, and stroked his hand back down Morgan's sweat-damp back, then turned to press his cheek to Morgan's. "I believe you," he murmured.
Morgan smiled again, closing his eyes. "Good." Because I would give you anything, that's how much I trust you.
"Just don't ever be such a fucking idiot again," Hotch murmured. "And get off. It's starting to hurt." He kissed Morgan softly before he let Morgan slide off.
"Fine, fine," Morgan grumbled. He shifted his weight off Aaron, but he didn't move far. As soon as he'd lowered himself to the bed, he pressed carefully to Aaron's side, unwilling to lose contact. "Bossy," he murmured, and kissed Aaron's shoulder.
"I'm serious," Hotch said, and he was but when Morgan's hand slid over his body, Hotch slid his hand over it and smiled softly.
Morgan sighed, though the touch warmed him. "I know." He ought to suggest they clean up and go to breakfast. He couldn't bring himself to even consider moving, though. He closed his eyes.
Hotch sighed too, and closed his eyes. He shifted enough to press his lips to Morgan's forehead and settled there, his thumb stroking Morgan's upper arm.
After a minute, Morgan relaxed further against Aaron, deciding neither of them really wanted to move. He thought he might be content to stay in bed all day, barring trips to the bathroom and the fridge. It flitted through his mind that at some point Aaron would probably make them talk about what had just happened. He pushed the thought away and let himself drift.
Hotch just settled for a moment, pleased at how heavy and relaxed Morgan felt against him. Hotch didn't feel like getting up, but he knew he wasn't going to feel fully relaxed until he cleaned up. "I'm sticky," he whispered, and shifted away gently to go get a damp towel, limping a little more now and hoping Morgan wouldn't say anything. He wiped himself clean and came back to the bed with the washcloth in case Morgan needed it.
Morgan watched Aaron silently, frowning at the way he was limping but knowing it would do no good to say anything about it. He murmured a quiet thanks and cleaned himself up, dropping it over the edge of the bed and making a mental note to pick it up later so housekeeping wouldn't have to.
Hotch was a little hungry now, but he settled next to Morgan, pulling the covers up over them. He'd eat later. He just wanted to enjoy this now. He slid his arms around Morgan and pressed his face against Morgan's neck, relaxing against him.
"Mmm." Morgan smiled and pulled Aaron a little closer, pleased by the way he'd come back and snuggled against him. Maybe Aaron could sleep for a while, get some more rest. Morgan hoped so.
Hotch let himself relax fully. He'd felt rested when Morgan woke him, but the exertion when he wasn't up to much had worn him down again. "Dave is never going to let this go," he grumbled after a moment.
Morgan laughed quietly. "It's worth it," he murmured, and kissed Aaron's temple. He stroked a hand gently along Aaron's skin, enjoying the touch.
"He's relentless," Hotch said, but he wasn't really listening to himself anymore. "How late is it? Shouldn't be sleeping."
Morgan reached up to brush his fingers over Aaron's hair. "You're still recovering," he whispered. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here."
"Won't sleep tonight," Hotch murmured, but he knew that wasn't the truth, and he was already drifting in and out of sleep.
"Yeah, you will." Morgan smiled and kissed his hair.
Part Three
Authors:
innerslytherin and severity_softlyPairing: Hotch/Morgan
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Morgan decides to take a detour on the drive back to Quantico. (Set immediately post-Mayhem)
Word count: ~19,000
Warnings: SPOILERS for Mayhem! (Kinks: a little dirty talk *g*)
Notes: RP format. Feel free to point out any glaring mistakes. :)
Part 1
Morgan woke early, the only sounds in the room Hotch's deep, even breathing and the air conditioning unit kicking off. He hadn't set an alarm, but it seemed like the days he was allowed to sleep in, he never could. He rolled onto his side, staring at the Hotch-shaped lump under the covers and wondering if he'd done the right thing. It had seemed so clear yesterday morning, when he'd approached Dave about the idea. And it was true that he and Hotch had achieved a sort of peace between them last night. But now the whole day stretched ahead of them, and Morgan had no idea what to expect.
He'd woken twice in the night to the sound of Hotch's nightmares, but he wasn't sure whether it would be worse to ignore them or to try to help. Both times he had ended up lying awake, listening to Hotch wake himself up, then try to settle back down to sleep. The second time, Hotch had limped to the bathroom and Morgan had tried to keep his breathing steady so Hotch wouldn't realize he was awake. When Hotch had fallen back to sleep, Morgan had lain awake, staring at the ceiling and feeling like a coward.
Checking the time, Morgan saw it was only just past six. They would be serving breakfast downstairs for another three hours, so he didn't feel like he had to wake Hotch for that. He got up as quietly as possible and grabbed his swim trunks from his ready bag. He supposed he was the only one on the team who carried them, but he never knew if they'd be in a place where he could get in a morning run or weight set, so he tried to cover all his bases. His shoulder was still sore enough from jumping out of the ambulance that he didn't really want to try weights yet. Today it would be laps in the pool to test his body and focus his mind.
Hotch woke with a start, sucking in a sharp breath, and for a moment he couldn't figure out why. He hadn't just been dreaming that he could remember. He felt better rested than he had when he'd woken throughout the night. But something had woken him, and he rolled over to find that Morgan wasn't in the bed next to him. And the bathroom door was open with no light on. Morgan must have left. Hotch half-wished that he'd started coffee before leaving, and then looked at the clock and groaned. Not time for coffee yet.
He rolled back onto his back and tried to go back to sleep, but after a while he just found himself staring blankly at the ceiling, his stomach rolling a little as the dreams that had woken him last night replayed in his mind over and over. Eventually, he got up and made coffee, even if it was only six-thirty, and then settled back in bed and flipped on the news, the sound almost too soft for him to hear. Which didn't matter because he couldn't focus on it anyway.
Finally, he leaned over and picked up his phone from the nightstand. If he was going to be awake this early, and Morgan wasn't here, he was going to wake up the other person responsible for this spontaneous 'vacation'.
When Dave answered, Hotch didn't wait for a greeting. "Surely you've realized I've been kidnapped, and yet I haven't failed to notice that you haven't notified the authorities," he mumbled, his voice still gravely from sleep.
There was a silence at the other end of the line, then Dave chuckled. "I thought you are the authorities," he said, sounding sleepy. "I'm surprised Derek is allowing you use of the telephone. He must be in the shower."
"He's out," Hotch said. "And he's not my keeper. And I hope I woke you out of a really wonderful dream."
"Yes, it involved a beach and margaritas," Dave replied. "What's he doing out? The idea of this was to keep you two in." There was a rustling over the line, and then a badly muffled yawn.
Hotch frowned. "What?" he asked, but then shook his head and dismissed it. "I'm sure he went out for a run or something. Does it every morning."
"I didn't know that," Dave said, sounding interested and slightly more awake. "Huh. I'm sure you're mad at me, but we both know you'd have already been awake and at the office by now if he'd let you come home."
"That's beside the point," Hotch said, then sipped his coffee. "And you know it. I don't know when I lost my authority, but you need to tell him to take me home because he won't listen to me." He wasn't sure if he was joking or not. He'd meant it as a joke, but saying that out loud put him slightly on edge.
"Mm." Dave coughed. "Actually, since you're on medical leave, I'm the one running the unit right now. Which means you lost your authority to me. And I actually like Derek's idea. Not to mention I think he'd be good for you."
Hotch's frown deepened and he blinked at nothing for a moment, unsure why Dave's words gave him pause. "Getting back to Quantico would be good for me."
Dave snorted. "Not as good as that. For God's sake, Aaron, go back to sleep. Let the man work his plan."
"What plan? We've said what needed to be said." Hotch sighed. "I can't sleep, anyway. I'd rather keep you awake."
"You didn't even know there was anything that needed to be said, did you?" Dave asked sounding skeptical.
"I'm not blind to the fact that there was a rift between Morgan and me this last case," Hotch said.
"You're blind about some other things," Dave muttered. "Aaron, I'm going to hang up in ten seconds. Go back to sleep. If you call me again, I'll tell Strauss you want to transfer to white collar crime."
"Dave," Hotch started, and then suddenly felt a little lost, not knowing what to say, and just trailed off without saying anything.
Dave's voice gentled. "Aaron, just trust me, okay? This will be good for you, and hopefully good for him, too." His words trailed off into something suspiciously like a snicker, but he cleared his throat and added, "Really. Don't call me again. I'll see you in a few days."
There was a click, and the line went dead.
Hotch sat there with the phone to his ear for a moment, and then drew a deep breath and flicked his phone shut. "Thanks," he muttered at it, and dropped it back on the nightstand before slumping back down in bed and glowering at the TV set. He'd turned it down out of habit while he was on the phone, and now he couldn't hear anything besides muffled, unintelligible sounds, but that hardly seemed to matter.
Morgan's shoulder was aching by the time he pulled himself out of the pool at the deep end, but his heart rate was up, he was breathing hard, and he knew the endorphin rush was going to kick in soon. He toweled off enough to quit dripping all over, then padded along the air conditioned hall back to the stairs.
When he let himself back into the room, the TV was on, but Hotch appeared to have fallen asleep again. Morgan jumped in the shower for a quick rinse, then came back out into the room dressed in boxers and a pair of jeans. He probably ought to wake Hotch, to make sure they had time to get down to breakfast before all the good stuff was gone.
Instead Morgan stood between their beds, watching Hotch sleep for a few minutes. He'd taken a lot of heat over the years for being such a player, but the truth was, as much as he enjoyed spending time with women and flirting with them, making them feel good about themselves, he'd never even looked at anyone seriously for seven years, since he joined the BAU. He'd been twenty-nine and fresh out of deep cover, and to him Aaron Hotchner had been something like a god. He'd fallen hard, and he'd never recovered.
And until Dave Rossi guessed his secret, sometime in the past six months, only Garcia had ever known.
Morgan sighed and rested one knee on the bed, leaning over to grip Hotch's shoulder gently but firmly. "Hey. Hotch. Wake up."
Hotch woke with a start. Again. And he was starting to get awfully sick of waking up like that. Thankfully this time it wasn't obvious (he hoped), his eyes darting to Morgan's for a moment, and then he expelled a breath in one big gust and relaxed again. "Mm'fine," he mumbled automatically, still mostly asleep, and closed his eyes again, reaching his hand up to try to rub them open for good. "Run?"
"Swim," Morgan said. "I wasn't sure if there was a good place for it here. Shoulder's a little sore, but other than that, it was pretty good." He decided not to say anything yet about Aaron's bad waking. After all, it wasn't going to change any time soon, but maybe he could help with that a little, eventually. He massaged Hotch's shoulder lightly before letting go, but pulled away. "I thought I oughta wake you in time for breakfast."
"I've had coffee," Hotch mumbled, relaxing slightly under Morgan touch. "Dave refuses to come rescue me."
"Good. I told you he'd signed off on this." Morgan gave him a crooked smile. "Come on, I think they have waffles down there. You need more than coffee for breakfast."
"I don't want to move," Hotch said. Morgan had been right when he said the ache would be worse today. It wasn't too much, but Hotch knew it would only get progressively worse if he didn't try to work it out. He pushed up to a seated position and stretched a bit.
"How are you feeling?" Morgan asked, watching him stretch. "You gotta be hurting right now."
"I am. I'll manage, though." Hotch looked up at Morgan, and realized suddenly that Morgan wasn't wearing a shirt... and Hotch knew Morgan was well built, but his eyes still wandered a moment before he looked away.
"Ibuprofen and a backrub," Morgan recommended, feeling a flash of heat that Hotch had looked.
"I'm not sure if a backrub would help or hurt." It wasn't muscle soreness so much as bruising, but a backrub might keep him from getting stiffer. "Gentle one, maybe," Hotch said, mostly to himself, and stood to go to the bathroom.
"Ibuprofen's on the counter in there, backrub's right here," Morgan said, hoping his voice was casual enough. It was strange, making a move on someone who wasn't expecting it and might not be at all interested. But Dave's subtle encouragement had implied Hotch wasn't necessarily unreceptive to advances from a man, so Morgan was hoping for the best.
Hotch breathed a laugh, and took the bottle of pills, downing a few with the water from the tap. "You don't have to do penance."
"I told you this was to make us both feel better, right?" Morgan asked, his lips quirking. "The argument last night was about making me feel better. This is about making you feel better." He tilted his head in a 'come here' gesture. "Shirt off, so I don't hit shrapnel wounds." His mouth went dry as soon as he said it; Hotch was so going to see right through this.
Hotch looked out the bathroom door at Morgan, just watching him for a moment. "Do you feel better?" he asked.
Morgan shifted and gave the question some consideration. "Yeah," he said slowly. "I do." Just saying some of that stuff to Hotch had made him feel better, let alone Hotch's reassurances that his history with Dave and Kate Joyner didn't change things between them.
Hotch nodded slowly. "What about breakfast?"
"We'll have time," Morgan said dismissively. "Or, hey, we're both bachelors now. We can eat cold spaghetti for breakfast if we damn well please."
Hotch laughed softly and shook his head, moving back towards Morgan. "You know," he said, tugging his shirt off, "If you wanted to get me naked..." He trailed off, calling back to the way he'd teased Morgan the night before about the wine and cake... and then suddenly his body went cold, everything Dave had said on the phone clicking into place all at once. "Where do you want me?" he asked anyway, almost too softly, because this couldn't possibly... He shook himself mentally and looked at Morgan, wondering if he were concussed and no one knew it.
Morgan licked his lips, hoping Hotch didn't know what sort of answer Morgan really wanted to give. "Just, you know, lie down. Or, I mean, you could sit up if you want, but I'm not as good at that." He managed a lopsided, slightly suggestive grin, hoping Hotch would laugh.
Hotch's eyebrows lifted, and he looked at Morgan for a moment, and then realized that probably wasn't the correct reaction. Get a grip. There's no way this is about sex. He nodded. "Okay," he murmured, and climbed onto the bed, stretching out onto his stomach.
Morgan cleared his throat and climbed onto the bed next to him, meaning to just kneel next to him. But it seemed awkward, so he knelt straddling Hotch's hips, keeping his weight off him. "Damn, you are bruised up good," he said, tracing a finger softly around the edges of the largest one. "We're lucky to still have you with us," he added in a whisper.
Hotch sucked in a breath; that touch was not what he expected, and it sent a shiver down his spine. God. "I'm hard to kill," he said, for lack of anything more coherent that came to mind.
"God," Morgan breathed, his fingers wandering to another bruise. His throat felt tight, like he couldn't breathe. He'd known how close Hotch came to the explosion, and the doctor had told him about the collapse in the hospital. Still, it was one thing knowing and another seeing the damage for himself. "Hotch..." His fingers went from bruise to cut to bruise, and his breathing went ragged with sudden yearning for something he didn't want to name. "God."
Hotch's eyes went wide, but he knew Morgan couldn't see it, and for a moment he just tried to breathe. He felt a little too exposed now; it was hard to know that seeing him like this could affect someone like it was obviously affecting Morgan. And God, this wasn't about sex at all, was it? This was about... more than that. Hotch was suddenly struggling to understand something he'd never expected to have to in a million years.
"Morgan," he whispered. "You-- you don't have to--"
Morgan cleared his throat again and swallowed, trying to push down the sudden upwelling of emotions. "Sorry, I was supposed to be massaging, wasn't I?" he said, trying for a light tone of voice. He rested his palms against Hotch's back, leaning lightly.
"Mnn," Hotch hummed automatically, the light pressure feeling good and bad at the same time, though he honestly couldn't relax right now anyway. He took a deep breath. "I didn't--" understand what Dave meant when he said I was blind, when he said we had more to talk about. He went silent for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Let me over," he murmured, and then started to roll under Morgan, waiting for him to move enough for Hotch to roll onto his back.
"What?" Morgan stared down at him, trying to figure out what Hotch meant. When he did, a shiver of cold went down his spine. He shifted off of Hotch, kneeling next to him again. "Change your mind?" he said, trying to brush it off.
When Hotch was able to, he sat up, just to match Morgan's posture, and fixed Morgan with a look. He knew he was frowning, and he couldn't quite help it, but he held Morgan's gaze, inviting honesty. "Talk to me."
Morgan cleared his throat again and forced himself to look at Hotch. "What are we talking about?" he asked, and his voice came out as a whisper, which he hadn't expected.
Hotch's frown deepened, but he chose not to say anything. He just held Morgan's gaze.
Morgan sighed. "Hotch, I..." He looked down, brows drawn together. He didn't know what to say. How did you even begin to say something like this?
Hotch didn't look away. "How long have I been completely oblivious to this?"
Morgan didn't look up. He licked his lips. "Since I transferred to the BAU," he whispered.
Hotch nearly choked. "What?!" he asked, his throat suddenly dry.
Morgan shrugged. "Hey, it's cool, I mean, you were married and all... I just, you know. Yeah."
"I'm not upset," Hotch said, which was possibly not the best thing to say, but Morgan didn't usually seem as such a loss.
That stopped the flow of uncomfortable words from Morgan's mouth, and he looked up at Hotch again, his gaze pausing at firm pectorals and more bruises before continuing on to Hotch's face. "I know I sort of idolize you," he muttered, "but it--it's more than that." God, this wasn't going at all the way he'd imagined it.
Hotch let out a breath that was sort of, but not really, a laugh, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Morgan-- Derek. You don't idolize me."
Morgan's eyes widened a little and he kept staring at Hotch, waiting for him to expand on that statement.
"You can't," Hotch said after a moment, sounding a little defeated. "God, how did I not know this?" He was starting to get tired of questioning his own abilities in the last few days.
Morgan shook his head, not sure why Hotch was sounding unhappy. "I protected this one hard...Aaron," he said. "Garcia's the only one who ever knew, until Dave called me on it yesterday." He sighed and looked away again. "I didn't really mean for you to ever know. It makes things...complicated." He shrugged.
Aaron's eyebrows lifted and lowered, and he nodded to himself. "Dave figured it out and I never saw it." He paused. "Why now?" he asked, but then his hand went instinctively to cover the largest of the bruises over his ribs. "Never mind."
Morgan reached out automatically and slid his fingers over Hotch's. He stared at their hands for a moment, then looked up. "Because of a lot of things. I--you were almost killed, and I'd never forgive myself if you didn't know...and because of what you said last night...and because I think we both need it." He licked his lips and glanced away. "And because Dave seemed to think this was the time."
Hotch turned his hand under Morgan's, his fingers brushing Morgan's palm. Truthfully he wasn't quite done being upset with Morgan; he wasn't quite ready to take back anything he'd said when Morgan had offered to drive him. Hotch drew a long breath. "I don't even know where to begin fix the fact that I'm still not convinced you trust us--me," he admitted.
Morgan's gaze jerked back to Hotch's when he touched Morgan's hand. "I'm not sure, but whatever it takes, I'm willing to try," he said quietly. He held Hotch's gaze for a long minute, then slowly, in case Hotch wanted to stop him, he leaned in and pressed their lips together.
Hotch sucked in a breath and only returned the kiss with an innocent one of his own. He didn't pull back though; he just breathed his next words against Morgan's lips. "I shouldn't do this."
"Because you don't want to?" Morgan asked quietly.
"Because I'm still upset with you." Hotch brushed his nose against Morgan's. "Because I'm the SAC."
"You don't have to stop being upset with me to do this," Morgan whispered. "But if those are your only reasons, then you sure as hell should do this." He reached up to slide his fingers into Hotch's hair, and kissed him again, more slowly.
Hotch let out a small noise as Morgan kissed him, and this time he returned it fully, a thrill of desire running through him. "Why?"
"Because we both need this," Morgan said quietly. "And...and I do trust you, Aaron. And this is--" His chest squeezed painfully and he stopped talking, because he couldn't just say, I've never trusted another man with my body. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, and leaned in to kiss Hotch again.
Hotch kissed Morgan back, but he frowned anyway, then pulled back to hold Morgan's gaze. "You don't have to do this to prove trust. I'm not asking for this."
Morgan cleared his throat. "I know that. But you've already got it. I'm just trying to show you." When it came down to it, he couldn't quite ignore the fact that his pulse was jumping for more reasons than just arousal. But he also wanted this more than he was nervous. And Hotch wasn't pushing him away. Hotch wanted this too. Morgan kissed him again, just tiny brushes of lips and tongue.
"God, I--" Hotch whispered, but just stopped talking and slid his hand over Morgan's thigh. He shouldn't do this, but he didn't want to stop. "This is hardly fair. I'm mostly undressed already."
Morgan laughed and tried to ignore how shaky it felt. "I've just got my jeans on, man." He shifted back and dropped his hands to the front of his jeans, keeping his eyes on Hotch's.
Hotch could hear the nervousness in Morgan's voice, and he couldn't help but be a little concerned. He knew about Morgan's past, after all. "Morgan... I-- we shouldn't."
"Hotch, Aaron, I want this." Morgan looked at him and lifted one hand to trace a careful line across Hotch's cheek, avoiding cuts. "I want you. For years. I've never really done something like this before, but you can be damn sure I'm not having any doubts."
Hotch held Morgan's gaze for a long moment, making sure Morgan wasn't just saying that, making sure this was really okay. And then he leaned in and cupped Morgan's jaw, kissing him again.
Morgan felt the tension drain out of him when Hotch moved forward. He melted into the kiss, welcoming Hotch with everything in him. God, he didn't even care about getting naked right now, he just didn't want this to stop. He tried to think about Hotch being injured, tried to keep from aggravating any of his pains, but his free hand slid impatiently along Hotch's arms and over his torso, the other running through his hair, as they kissed.
"Mmm," Hotch hummed, and slid closer to Morgan on the bed, his arm slipping around Morgan's waist, and he ignored a tiny burn when Morgan's fingers brushed one of the worst of the cuts. He'd almost died, but this was making him remember he was alive more than he had in the past few days. "What did Dave tell you?"
Morgan thought about the way it had simultaneously hurt and given him hope, the look on Dave's face when he'd said he 'had a feeling Aaron wouldn't mind at all'. There was history between Dave and Hotch, whatever they were leaving unspoken now. But Morgan hoped--thought--that it was just history now. "He just...hinted you might not be quite as straight as I thought," he murmured, and skated his lips along Hotch's jaw.
Hotch closed his eyes, feeling a little relieved, even if he did have a feeling that Morgan probably knew how Dave would know that. Hotch and Dave had never been together--they had both been married--but there had been an undeniable attraction between them back then, which they'd acknowledged, but never acted on. "He's on my Shit List the rest of the year," Hotch said, but then pulled away a little so that he could catch Morgan's lips in a kiss that was hungrier, hooking his hand around Morgan's neck. "Not that I'm complaining about the results," he whispered when he pulled away, then bit lightly at Morgan's lower lip.
Morgan laughed in surprise at Hotch's words, but then moaned faintly as a surge of arousal went through him. God, this was incredible. He stroked his hand down Hotch's chest, skating his fingertips across a nipple.
Hotch sucked in a breath, and then let his hand slip to Morgan's jeans. He worked open the button one-handed after a small amount of fumbling, while his other hand stroked over the back of Morgan's head.
"Mmm." Morgan moved enough to help Hotch with his jeans, appreciating that he was taking the initiative now. It felt incredibly good to be wanted.
Once Morgan's zipper was down, Hotch pushed at the top of his jeans, and Morgan helped to get them off. His fingers stroked up Morgan's thigh then, and skipped over Morgan's groin to slide over his stomach. God, Morgan was beautiful and firm, and Hotch was still trying to figure out how he hadn't ever known Morgan wanted him. But that didn't matter right now. "Morgan," he breathed. "Derek."
Morgan smiled, watching him. He liked the sound of his name on Hotch's lips. He leaned in and kissed Hotch again, pressing lightly on his shoulder to try to get him to lie down. He was dying to feel Hotch's skin against his.
Hotch let Morgan guide him down, hooking a hand under Morgan's arm to pull Morgan with him. He didn't break the kiss, he just deepened it once they were lying down.
Morgan pressed his chest lightly to Hotch's as they kissed, wanting the contact but wanting Hotch to guide things so he didn't get hurt. This almost didn't feel real, except there was no doubting the hunger in Hotch's kiss. Morgan moaned softly, his free hand stroking lightly along Hotch's arm.
Hotch let out a small moan, his body reacting to Morgan's touch readily. He slid his hand down to Morgan's hip, first above his boxers, and then underneath, though he just stroked his fingers along Morgan's hip and down the side of his thigh.
"God," Morgan whispered, his breath catching in his throat. "Aaron." He let his hand roam over Hotch's skin and leaned in for another kiss. "Touch me."
Hotch chuckled softly into another kiss. "I am touching you," he murmured. When he slid his hand back up, his curled his pinky and ring finger down to brush over Morgan's hip bone, across his abdomen, closer to the erection Hotch could feel pressing lightly against him. He was mildly surprised that Morgan wasn't taking more initiative, and he knew part of it was that Morgan hadn't done this before, but he would have expected Morgan to play at complete confidence anyway. "You're completely sure? I don't want to hurt you."
Morgan leaned in until his lips were brushing Hotch's. "If you say that when I tell you to touch me, how are you gonna react when I ask you to fuck me?" he murmured.
Hotch drew a sharp breath as a thrill of lust went through him at Morgan's words. He'd mostly been worried about Morgan's past history, but it was clear now that wasn't even an issue to consider. He leaned in again and kissed Morgan hard, the hunger from Morgan's words apparent, and then rolled them both so that he was on top of Morgan, pressing down against him.
God. Morgan moaned and wrapped his arms around Hotch, holding him close and meeting Hotch's passion with his own. He tried to remember which of Hotch's legs was hurt, but gave up quickly and just shifted his own legs apart to let Hotch settle down against him.
"Mmph," Hotch hummed as they pressed together. It had been well over two decades since he'd done this, but it was just as wonderful as Hotch remembered. It was better this time, actually, because it was Morgan, and it was slowly hitting Hotch how much Morgan was giving him right now. He ducked his head and licked along Morgan's throat, sucking at the bump of Adam's apple.
Morgan let out a quiet noise, though he didn't actually manage any words. He arched his head back, one hand stroking up Hotch's back to slide into his hair. "Yeah," he breathed finally, shifting his hips under Hotch's and gasping at the pleasure that sent through him.
Hotch gasped softly at the movement of Morgan under him, then pressed down harder, groaning at the way it drove his desire farther, and at the way it made his muscles ache just a bit. "Derek," he said, then bit softly against Morgan's shoulder, liking the way Morgan responded to him.
Hissing in surprise, Morgan curled a leg around Hotch's, hoping he'd picked the uninjured side. "Yes, God," he managed, his eyes falling half closed. "Aaron."
Hotch slid down a bit, moving so Morgan's leg was off the part of his leg that was the most sore and hoping Morgan hadn't noticed the reaction. He licked at Morgan's nipple, flicking his tongue at the nub until it hardened and then scraping his teeth lightly against it. "You don't want to fuck me?" he asked, his voice soft, and then moved lower, kissing over Morgan's chest.
Morgan gasped and let out a shuddery breath. "I will if you want that," he said. "But I'd rather--I want you to take me." He liked the idea of Hotch being 'in charge', so to speak. He stroked his hand down to rest at Hotch's hip. "Did I...hurt you?' he added.
"I'm fine," Hotch murmured, not answering directly. The desire that was running through him at Morgan's words was slowly fogging his mind. "It's been a long time," he said, sliding low enough that he was breathing his words over the head of Morgan's cock.
Morgan shivered. "I figured--Dave--" he muttered, and then lost track of what he was saying. "Oh, God, Aaron."
"We were married," Aaron whispered. "I haven't done this since high school." He ducked his head and covered the head of Morgan's cock with his mouth, sucking lightly and watching Morgan's face.
Morgan let out a loud groan, feeling selfishly better about Dave. He tightened his fingers in Aaron's hair, panting. "Oh, that's--" He had to fight to keep his eyes open, watching Aaron hungrily.
Morgan was gorgeous, his eyes half-lidded and looking at Hotch like that. Hotch tried to hold his gaze, but after a moment, he closed his eyes to focus on what he was doing, then drew a deep breath and relaxed his throat, taking Morgan in as deeply as he could manage.
"Nnnh," Morgan managed, sliding his free hand across Hotch's shoulders. "Feels--so good, God! This...this is what you want?" He was breathing raggedly, pleasure surging through him and making him wonder how long he was going to last, if Hotch kept this up.
Hotch pulled back, humming softly around Morgan. This felt completely new and still familiar at the same time, and it was good to see Morgan this way. He pulled off, though, and looked at Morgan. "This is a two way thing, not just about what I want," he said, brushing his nose and lips along Morgan's prick, his eyes falling closed as he licked along the shaft again. "And I am enjoying this."
Morgan whimpered, closing his eyes. "Aaron," he breathed, running his fingers through the short, soft hair. "So good. I won't--last long--at this rate."
"You're young. You can come a second time," Hotch murmured, smiling softly to himself and feeling more than a little good about how quickly he'd been able to do this to Morgan. He slipped his mouth back over Morgan and sucked harder, his tongue flicking over the head each time he pulled back.
Morgan just made a strangled noise and fought to keep his hips from jerking automatically at the sensation that was beginning to overwhelm him. It felt fantastic, and what made it better was that Hotch was doing this. Hotch was enjoying this. It seemed impossibly good. Morgan's chest hitched as he tried to breathe.
Hotch hummed around Morgan and took him in deeply, then drew his hand down over Morgan's thigh to brush his finger over Morgan's entrance, just circling it lightly as he sucked, trying to bring Morgan to the edge. He could tell Morgan was trying to keep still, and gave his hips a gentle nudge too.
Morgan cried out, the touch of Hotch's fingers sending another flash of pleasure through him. "I--I'm close--" he gasped, letting his hips jerk when Hotch nudged them. "God, Aaron, I can't--I--" He broke off into a choked moan as he came, his back arching until the strength left his muscles and he slumped back against the bed.
Hotch groaned as Morgan came, opening his eyes to watch as he swallowed all of Morgan's release. When Morgan collapsed, Hotch licked him clean and then pressed his cheek to Morgan's thigh, watching the rise and fall of Morgan's chest.
"God," Morgan whispered, finally moving one hand to stroke his fingers through Hotch's hair. "God." He stared down at Hotch, and was embarrassed at how tight his throat felt. He slid his hand down to curl his fingers around Hotch's arm and nudge him lightly, wanting to be closer.
Hotch slid up Morgan's body and settled next to him, stifling a groan at the way his body ached (he'd temporarily forgotten it) and at the way his cock ached too, wanting attention. He brushed his fingers lightly against Morgan's jaw.
Morgan kissed him, tasting himself. "Aaron," he whispered, shifting so their bodies were pressed together. "How do you want me?"
Aaron gave Morgan a lopsided smile. "You're ready already?"
"I want you to talk to me," Morgan said, smiling back. "I want you to tell me what you want to do. I'll be ready soon." He kissed Aaron again.
Hotch moaned softly into the kiss. Telling Morgan what he wanted might just drive him crazy. His cock was already insisting on attention and he was trying not to think too much about it. "I hope you brought lube."
"Mmhmm," Morgan agreed. "Didn't really think I'd get to use it, though." He stroked a hand down to tease at Aaron's hip. "Tell me what you want to do with me."
Hotch reached between them and parted Morgan's legs, bringing Morgan's top leg up to rest gently over his own hip. He stroked his fingertips down over Morgan's perineum, then just over one side of his ass. "If I tell you what I want to do, I might come before we start," he murmured, brushing his nose along Morgan's cheek.
Morgan's breathing hitched. "Oh come on, you have more control than that, don't you?" he said after a moment, his voice warm with amusement and affection. "Tell me, Aaron." He liked the way Aaron was touching him. He wanted that calm, authoritative voice telling him what to do.
Hotch laughed. "I haven't exactly been having a lot of sex lately," he said, and pressed himself against Morgan's thigh. He kissed Morgan softly. "I'm not all that good at this," he whispered, then drew a fingertip down the valley of Morgan's ass. "I want to make you come again while I'm inside of you," he murmured.
Morgan let out a quiet noise. "Yes." He pressed back lightly against Aaron's finger. "God."
Hotch pressed the pad of his finger against Morgan's entrance, not wanting to press inside without lubrication, but applying pressure and slight friction against Morgan. "I want you on top of me," he whispered. He'd been a little concerned about his leg holding up when he'd been on top of Morgan before, but he wasn't about to say that, and as soon as the words were out, he breathed a little noise of want at the thought, picturing it in his mind. "Sitting up so I can see the way my cock makes you feel, watch the way you look each time I drive into you."
Morgan moaned and leaned in to kiss Aaron hard. "Yes, I want that," he agreed breathlessly. "Want you inside me." He needed to get his bag, but he had no desire to move. He couldn't wait much longer, though; he could feel Aaron's erection, and his own cock was starting to give twitches of interest at the way Aaron was talking. He kissed Aaron again. "Need to get the lube," he muttered against his mouth.
"I want you right back like this when you come back so I can get you ready," Hotch said softly, though his tone left no room for argument. God, his cock was aching more the more he talked like this.
Morgan smiled. "Yes, sir," he whispered, and kissed him once more before pulling away and rolling off the bed to get the lube. He glanced at the condoms in his bag and left them. When he came back, he pressed against Aaron again, trying to arrange himself just as he had been. "Is this right?" he asked, looping an arm around Aaron's neck and kissing him slowly.
"Close enough," Hotch said, smiling softly. He took the lube and slicked his fingers, and then his hand was between them again, his finger pressing lightly at Morgan's entrance. "Tell me how it feels," he said, mostly because he wanted to make sure he wasn't hurting Morgan, but he also wanted to hear how much Morgan was enjoying this.
"It feels good," Morgan murmured, his breathing speeding up again. "Teasing," he added, smiling. "Makes me want more." He stroked his fingers over Aaron's skin, unable to get enough of touching him.
Hotch kissed Morgan again, drawing it out as he pressed a fingertip inside gently. "You're so fucking gorgeous," he murmured, sliding his finger in slowly. "You're going to look so beautiful sitting on my prick."
"Oh, God," Morgan moaned as a thrill went through him. Aaron was hot talking like that, and his finger was almost too gentle. Morgan pressed back. "More," he demanded. "Nnh, want you so much."
"More?" Hotch whispered, pleased and getting increasingly more desperate. He wanted the tight heat around his cock, not his finger. He rocked his hips against Morgan's thigh and pressed a second finger inside, crooking his fingers to find Morgan's prostate. "I want you to stroke yourself while I fuck you, Derek. I want to feel you come against me and clench around me." Aaron's voice was calm, soft, but he had to bite his lip after that and focus on trying to breath evenly because if he kept talking he wouldn't be able to control his body anymore.
"Fuck," Morgan breathed, and then gasped as pleasure shot through him. God, he couldn't take this much longer, and he didn't think Aaron could, either. "Want you inside me," he managed. The calm tone of Aaron's voice was killing him. "Please!"
Hotch scissored his fingers, once last attempt to get Morgan ready, but his heart was beating hard against his ribs. "Now?" he managed, his tone going a little husky.
"Yes, yes," Morgan panted, a shiver going through him at Aaron's tone. "Aaron, I need you. Now."
Hotch nodded and rolled onto his back, tugging Morgan on top of him. He slid his hands up Morgan's body, not pushing him to sit up just yet so he could relax for a moment as he got used to the feeling of Hotch inside him. He hooked his hand around Morgan's neck to pull him in for a deep, hopefully soothing kiss, and then positioned himself and pressed Morgan's hips back until he was sliding gently over Hotch's cock. Hotch moaned loudly against Morgan's lips and tried to steady himself while Morgan got used to it.
It was uncomfortable at first, as Morgan had known it would be, but he'd been too impatient to wait any longer. And there was something arousing about that edge of pain, too, something that said it was worth the discomfort because something better was ahead. Morgan made a hungry noise and nipped at Aaron's mouth, just to show that begging for Aaron's cock didn't mean he was passive about this.
Hotch moaned softly, and returned the nips with hungrier kisses. "God, Derek," he whispered. His hand was trembling slightly against Morgan's hip as he waited for Morgan to move, and he curled his fingers against Morgan's skin to steady it. "Fuck."
"Yes!" Morgan slid his hand down to cover Aaron's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Feels so good." He kissed Aaron one more time, then shifted and sat back, keeping his gaze locked on Aaron's. "God, you're so fucking gorgeous," he groaned, pleasure washing through him at the shift in angle. He paused, already panting, and then finally began, slowly, to move.
Hotch's breath went ragged, feeling the pressure of Morgan's weight on him, the way he was buried inside of Morgan. His fingers went tight on Morgan's and he slid his other hand up Morgan's thigh. He moaned when Morgan started moving, wanting so badly to thrust, but not letting himself yet. "Derek," he panted, letting his eyes flutter shut.
Morgan made a quiet noise as he rocked his hips, loving the expression on Hotch's face. He wanted Hotch's eyes on him, though, so he moved his free hand to touch Hotch's cheek. "Watch me," he murmured. "See how much I want you."
Hotch was trying to steady his breath, and wasn't really making any progress, but he opened his eyes and looked up at Morgan. His breath hitched when Morgan shifted, and his fingers went tighter around Morgan's. "You're so unbelievably sexy like this," he panted softly.
"So are you," Morgan said, smiling broadly. He felt indescribably good as he began really moving, lifting himself up and then sliding back down along the length of Hotch's cock. His smile sort of fell apart as his jaw went slack with pleasure, though his gaze was still hot, locked on Aaron's. The thought flitted through him that he hoped he wasn't hurting Hotch, but he couldn't make the words form.
Hotch breathed what might have been a laugh if he wasn't flooded with need, and shook his head once at Morgan's assessment. He reached up and stroked what he could reach of Morgan's chest, his body humming with pleasure as Morgan moved. His fingers trailed back down over a rippled stomach. "Derek," he whispered, and realized belatedly that Morgan actually had every bit of control in this position. He found himself not caring either.
Morgan let out a quiet noise that was halfway between a laugh and a moan. "Aaron, Aaron, fuck me," he said, squeezing Aaron's fingers lightly. Aaron had proven that he wanted Morgan--there was no question of that--but Morgan wanted to see it now, too.
"God, yes," Hotch moaned. He'd been waiting for Morgan to give him indication that he was ready, and a flash of heat went through him at Morgan's words. He reached down to grip Morgan's hip and thrust up against Morgan, moaning softly as he watched Morgan's face.
The first thrust drove all the breath out of Morgan's body. He stared at Aaron, gasping at the rush of sensation that had shot through him. The second thrust got him to pay attention to what he was doing again, and he started trying to time his movements with Aaron's, still watching him hungrily. He didn't think he'd ever felt this connected to someone in his life. It was almost frightening, but it was such a rush, he wasn't sure he'd ever recover.
"God, Morg-- Derek," Hotch managed, thrusting faster once Morgan was moving with him. He clamped his eyes shut for a moment, partially because he was hurting a bit, but mostly because it just felt so amazing it was hard to handle. He couldn't breathe. "Touch yourself," he ordered, opening his eyes to gaze up at Morgan again. He didn't know how long he could last.
"Aaron, you okay?" Morgan managed, because he wasn't sure, but he thought that had been a hint of pain in Aaron's expression. He curled his fingers obediently around his cock, though, his eyelids lowering and a groan of relief escaping his lips.
"Better. Than. Okay," Aaron panted, thrusting with each word, a little harder than he had before, partially to make a point--that he didn't care if it hurt because it felt too good to stop, so Morgan should just not ask. His eyelids drooped and his gaze fell to Morgan's hand. "Mmph, yes. I'm-- getting close," he managed.
Morgan just made a noise of acknowledgment and whimpered in excitement as Hotch thrust harder. God, this was incredible. He flicked his thumb across the head of his cock and clenched his muscles around Aaron experimentally.
"Derek," Hotch panted, his body feeling like it was coming apart underneath of Morgan's. He wanted to feel Morgan come, though, so when Morgan clenched around him, he gasped and he slowed a little. "Mmm," he whimpered.
"Good?" Morgan asked, a faint smile flitting across his face. It was soon lost to pleasure, though, as Aaron thrust harder into him. He automatically tightened his fingers, stroking faster, and let out another unintelligible noise. He was close, very close. His thighs were beginning to shake with a mixture of effort and involuntary spasms of pleasure. God, this was good.
"Yes!" Hotch answered, then licked his lips, fighting to control his body's response. There were thrills of pure lust and need coursing through him as he moved, at it was starting to build to a crescendo. He finally gripped Morgan's hip and stopped him, stilling inside of Morgan, panting hard. "Come," he panted. "I want to feel you come," he said, and laced the fingers of his free hand with Morgan's to stroke with him.
Morgan groaned and stroked faster, watching Aaron's face. God, it was good to see that need on Aaron's face and know it was for him. He felt the pleasure building inside him, and then his body tightened and he gasped as he came, spilling over their joined hands.
Hotch was so close that the feel of Morgan's come over his hand and stomach and the feeling of Morgan's orgasm running through him as he clenched around Hotch's cock was enough. Hotch didn't even have to thrust again, he just gasped as his own climax came, and then moaned, rocking just a bit against Morgan as he milked his release as long as he could. He was fighting to breathe once it was over, but he looked up and met Morgan's gaze, and a slow, sated smile formed on his lips before he could stop it. "God," he panted, and tugged Morgan down for a kiss.
Pleased, Morgan kissed Aaron hungrily, slumping against him before remembering his injuries. Then he jerked his weight back off Aaron, though he maintained the kiss. It felt strange to have Aaron growing soft still inside him, but he liked the intimacy of it. He didn't want this to be over. And he really didn't want to have to talk about what had just happened.
Hotch groaned when Morgan slumped against him, but when Morgan pulled away, Hotch pulled him back. Gently. His body was swimming with enough endorphins running through him he didn't notice the aches, as long as the press of their bodies was gentle. "Mmm," he hummed, not able to think.
"M'not hurting you?" Morgan murmured, brushing his nose against Aaron's jaw. He didn't want to move, but he'd rather move than cause Aaron any pain.
"Not at the moment," Hotch murmured. "Feel too fuzzy."
"Mmm." Morgan kissed Aaron's jaw, smiling. "That was fantastic." It was more than fantastic. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good.
Aaron closed his eyes and tried to think through the haze, but all he could manage to think was that Morgan had just given up so much to him. It felt almost overwhelming now. "Derek?" Hotch breathed, sliding his hand up the back of Morgan's head.
"Yeah," Morgan whispered.
Hotch drew in a long breath, and stroked his hand back down Morgan's sweat-damp back, then turned to press his cheek to Morgan's. "I believe you," he murmured.
Morgan smiled again, closing his eyes. "Good." Because I would give you anything, that's how much I trust you.
"Just don't ever be such a fucking idiot again," Hotch murmured. "And get off. It's starting to hurt." He kissed Morgan softly before he let Morgan slide off.
"Fine, fine," Morgan grumbled. He shifted his weight off Aaron, but he didn't move far. As soon as he'd lowered himself to the bed, he pressed carefully to Aaron's side, unwilling to lose contact. "Bossy," he murmured, and kissed Aaron's shoulder.
"I'm serious," Hotch said, and he was but when Morgan's hand slid over his body, Hotch slid his hand over it and smiled softly.
Morgan sighed, though the touch warmed him. "I know." He ought to suggest they clean up and go to breakfast. He couldn't bring himself to even consider moving, though. He closed his eyes.
Hotch sighed too, and closed his eyes. He shifted enough to press his lips to Morgan's forehead and settled there, his thumb stroking Morgan's upper arm.
After a minute, Morgan relaxed further against Aaron, deciding neither of them really wanted to move. He thought he might be content to stay in bed all day, barring trips to the bathroom and the fridge. It flitted through his mind that at some point Aaron would probably make them talk about what had just happened. He pushed the thought away and let himself drift.
Hotch just settled for a moment, pleased at how heavy and relaxed Morgan felt against him. Hotch didn't feel like getting up, but he knew he wasn't going to feel fully relaxed until he cleaned up. "I'm sticky," he whispered, and shifted away gently to go get a damp towel, limping a little more now and hoping Morgan wouldn't say anything. He wiped himself clean and came back to the bed with the washcloth in case Morgan needed it.
Morgan watched Aaron silently, frowning at the way he was limping but knowing it would do no good to say anything about it. He murmured a quiet thanks and cleaned himself up, dropping it over the edge of the bed and making a mental note to pick it up later so housekeeping wouldn't have to.
Hotch was a little hungry now, but he settled next to Morgan, pulling the covers up over them. He'd eat later. He just wanted to enjoy this now. He slid his arms around Morgan and pressed his face against Morgan's neck, relaxing against him.
"Mmm." Morgan smiled and pulled Aaron a little closer, pleased by the way he'd come back and snuggled against him. Maybe Aaron could sleep for a while, get some more rest. Morgan hoped so.
Hotch let himself relax fully. He'd felt rested when Morgan woke him, but the exertion when he wasn't up to much had worn him down again. "Dave is never going to let this go," he grumbled after a moment.
Morgan laughed quietly. "It's worth it," he murmured, and kissed Aaron's temple. He stroked a hand gently along Aaron's skin, enjoying the touch.
"He's relentless," Hotch said, but he wasn't really listening to himself anymore. "How late is it? Shouldn't be sleeping."
Morgan reached up to brush his fingers over Aaron's hair. "You're still recovering," he whispered. "Go to sleep. I'll be right here."
"Won't sleep tonight," Hotch murmured, but he knew that wasn't the truth, and he was already drifting in and out of sleep.
"Yeah, you will." Morgan smiled and kissed his hair.
Part Three
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-11 04:00 am (UTC)I also like how the two of them are pretty quiet sex partners.
no subject
Date: 2008-12-30 10:20 pm (UTC)Wordy McWordson.
He'd fallen hard, and he'd never recovered.
WAAAAAAAAAAH I LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT. WAH. I love me some UST like woah. ::squirms happily::
"Where do you want me?" he asked anyway, almost too softly, because this couldn't possibly... He shook himself mentally and looked at Morgan, wondering if he were concussed and no one knew it.
OH GOD HOTCH, THATTABOY! ::SQUEE:: I HAVE SUCH A KINK FOR UST/GETTING TOGETHER/HURTCOMFORT fics and this hits all of them so perfectly ::bounce::
Morgan sighed. "Hotch, I..." He looked down, brows drawn together. He didn't know what to say. How did you even begin to say something like this?
Hotch didn't look away. "How long have I been completely oblivious to this?"
And as much as I love me some seriously UST, YAY for not having Hotch be stupid. I HATE STUPID!HOTCH because that’s just sooo not canon. :P PLUS, HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
He ducked his head and licked along Morgan's throat, sucking at the bump of Adam's apple.
I don’t usually pause during the HAWT BUTTSECKIN’ BITS, but I had to comment on this, because I’ve recently discovered (heh…) that this is also a huge kink of mine. I think it has to do with the fact it’s so purely male. Yes, I’ve always liked neck biting/licking in any type of smut, but… yeah. It’s so profoundly male - it brings to mind sweat and warmth and hard bodies and maybe I’m just weird, but I’m all right with that.
, but he knew he wasn't going to feel fully relaxed until he cleaned up
BWAHAHHAHA. This is how I tend to write Hotch too; such a fastidious bastard. LOVE.
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Date: 2008-12-31 12:52 am (UTC)And YES @ fastidious bastard Hotch. *G*